Entry tags:

fanfiction, fic: far away as moonshine

FIC: Far Away as Moonshine 11/28
Title: Far Away as Moonshine, Part II: The Battle of Hogwarts
Author: zephre
Rating: PG-13 (R for whole fic)
Prompt: 100quills table 50.2: Water
Word Count: 1,576
Summary: For Draco Malfoy, the war was one endless nightmare. Until Luna Lovegood gave him a reason to hope. Can he find his courage, make his luck, and become more than a pawn to those in power?
Warnings: (for whole fic, highlight to view) *mature themes, imprisonment, mention of rape, abuse, battlefield violence, various canon and other character deaths, sexual situations*
Notes:The title is from the song, "Street of Dreams" by Oysterband.
Chapter Index:
Part I:   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Part II:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Part III: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Epilogue

Chapter 2: In which Bill uncovers secrets.


Luna woke up without moving.  She had learned the knack over the last few months; it helped to assess the situation with as many senses as possible before opening her eyes.  There were voices at the door to the room she shared with Hermione.  Hermione herself was gone, probably plotting with Harry and Ron. They had been conspiring to be  together at every opportunity.

Luna did not open her eyes or betray by even a change in her breathing that she was now aware of the conversation taking place in whispers at the half-open door.

"She flinches from everyone but you. Even from Harry."  That was Bill, voice still rough from sleep.  It was probably before dawn.

"Something terrible happened to her, I know it," Fleur said. Even her voice was beautiful. Luna noticed things like that when her eyes were closed.

"The others don't seem to think she's changed much."

"Have you looked in her eyes?" Fleur paused, and her breath hitched as if on a sob. "Terrible secrets."

Their voices faded as they moved down the hall, Bill's heavier tread masking Fleur's steps. "We all have secrets. Let her be, for now."

Luna thought about Bill's scars, and the way Fleur looked at him across the breakfast table, or when they sat together in the parlor listening to the wireless. Something in that look defied all the Darkness of his curse scars. What courage they had, to love like that.

Luna burrowed under the covers and tried to pretend that she was in her own bed at home, and her father would call her down to breakfast any moment. It was no good.  The sheets smelled wrong, and the bed was lumpier than her mattress at home. She peeked out from under the duvet at the blank white ceiling. No, it was all wrong, and she had to face it.

The long day of chores helped keep her head clear, although she had a bad moment by the stream when she and Dean were washing up from the gardening. She hadn't felt truly clean since before Christmas, and here there were no house elves to keep her from scrubbing herself raw.  Dean caught on in time, and stopped her before she had time to become truly panicked. She could tell, though, that she had shaken Dean's belief in her peaceful facade.

She dropped a pot of multi-colored asphodels after lunch, shattering the ceramic and crushing half the blossoms.  Fleur was quick to reassure her they were salvageable, but the loss still ran a crack through Luna's calm. By the time the evening star was visible, Luna's hands were shaking, and not from fatigue. Every other task she'd tried had been a disaster.

"Luna," Bill called as he came down the slope. "Walk with me a moment, will you?" He offered her his arm and gestured toward the path along the cliffside.

Luna took a deep breath, shedding her gloves and smoothing the front of her work robes. She cast a quick Scourgify with her new wand, but it did not help. She wanted to blame the wand, but she knew it worked perfectly for every other charm and spell.

Bill led her down a switchback trail to a tiny stripe of beach between the rocks, well out of view of the house. Her feet sank into the wet sand, and she slipped her shoes off to better enjoy the sensation. This was something else that reminded her of home.

"Bad day, huh?" Bill said, his tone of voice sympathetic. He sat an a smooth, flat patch of rock just at the edge of the water. His boots grazed the surf.

Luna nodded and sat beside him.  Her toes dangled several inches above the water. The sea blushed with sunset reflections. She glanced sidelong at her host, wondering what he would ask, and when. He seemed to have infinite patience this evening, however, and asked nothing.  Stars came out. Bill cast an unfamiliar spell and a lantern Luna had not noticed illuminated itself, offering just enough light for them to see one another. 

Luna did not want to give in to the need to fill up the silence, but questions had piled up behind her teeth, and threatened to choke her if she did not give them voice. Here was Bill, who had been Cursed himself, who worked with Dark spells everyday, who knew how to keep secrets.     

"May I ask a question? About - well, about your scars?" Luna kept her eyes on her toes, unwilling to see Bill's expression at her audacity.

"Go ahead," he said with quiet calm. 

"How long did they take to heal even as much as they did?" Luna whispered.  She had spent many long hours trying to keep her scrutiny of Bill's face hidden from him. Fleur was usually an excellent distraction to him, allowing Luna a certain freedom to observe over the top of her book in the evenings. Luna knew the pattern of Bill's scars, the pink-tinging-to-purple ridges that skirted his eyes and interrupted the stubble that had usually begun to darken his jaw by nightfall. They were no longer the raw red they had been in the immediate aftermath of the battle almost a year ago, but they had never faded to pale silver like the lines on Draco's arm. She didn't need to be looking at Bill now to know just the way the scars bent around his mouth when he spoke.

"A few weeks, perhaps," he said. He did not sound angry or embarrassed to be having this discussion. He sounded just as he did when he asked Luna how her day had gone at dinner. "Fleur could tell you better, she had a better view. Mirrors and I didn't get along for a long time."

"Do they ever hurt? Like a sudden sharp burn, as if someone had cursed them open again? Do they ever stop hurting, so that you can completely relax and not feel like the back of your neck is one massive knot -" Luna cut off her sentence mid-syllable, but she knew she had given herself away. Her fingers curled tight into her palms. 

Bill touched her shoulder. "Luna." 

She shook her head.

Gentle fingers touched her chin. She made an effort not to flinch as Bill turned her face toward the light. She had been right about the way his smile bent his scars. "You don't need to keep secrets from us," he said, and Luna shrank back from him. She did not mean to, but she could not help it.

Bill let his hand hover in the air between them for a moment, then he dropped it to the rock and sighed.  "How old are your scars, Luna?"

Luna hugged herself and looked away. After a moment, watching the play of the lantern light on the water, she whispered, "Three months. They're almost three months old."

The silence stretched so long that Luna had to look, and she found to her surprise no pity on Bill's face. Rather he was struggling to control a great rage, one that was palpable in the air around him. "What did they do to you?" he asked, his voice harsh and low.

She leaned over and covered his fist with her hand. "Don't," she cried, but she was not sure what she thought he would do. "Please.  It's over now, and I just-"

He cut her off, snarling, "It's not over. It's never over."

Luna had never seen Bill's rage like this, and although she was frightened, she was also relieved. He still felt things, he had his life and it was close to normal. It gave her hope for herself.

"Bill," she whispered, letting her concern widen her eyes and fill her voice. If he mistook it for fear, well, that would give him incentive to calm down.

He subsided, taking a deep breath, as she had hoped he would.  "I'm sorry, Luna.  It got away from me, there." He ran a hand through his hair and stared out at the stars on the horizon.  "Curse scars?" he asked at last, with resignation.

Luna nodded. 

She could practically see him pushing his protective host self down and letting the pragmatic Cursebreaker out. "Have they been Healed at all? Do you know the spells used?"

"House elf magic, and basic first aid. More than I expected," Luna replied. "He -" she choked as that single pronoun evoked a horror as great as any she had actually felt in that cellar.  "I saw the wand movements, but it was a silent casting. I thought at first it was just a cutting spell, but..."

Bill nodded. "Will you let a mediwitch take a look, if we can get one out here?"

She wanted to refuse, but if there was a chance she could see the scars truly gone, shouldn't she risk it? The shame would not kill her, but it was possible the untended scars would. She gazed up at the moon overhead and wished it were more comforting.  At last, she looked at Bill and agreed.  "Yes, I will."

Bill's relief at her willingness made her feel churlish for having thought about denial. Even so, she wished she could take it back. She wanted to forget, to ignore, to pretend. Looking at the scars would make those dark hours in the cellar real.

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